Haridwar

Haridwar stands where the Ganga leaves the Shivalik hills and spreads out onto the plains, and that is the whole reason for it. A river that has run fast and narrow through the mountains slows down here enough to bathe in, and for well over a thousand years people have come to do exactly that. The name means the gate of Hari — or of Hara, depending on whether you ask a Vaishnava or a Shaiva.

Every twelve years the city hosts the Kumbh Mela, and every six an Ardh Kumbh; the next runs from mid-January to April 2027, with crowds in the millions on the main bathing days. Between Kumbhs, Haridwar is still one of the busiest pilgrim towns in India, a city of ashrams, dharamshalas, priests who keep family genealogies going back generations, and the steady traffic of people bringing ashes to the river.

The centre of it all is Har Ki Pauri — the steps of Hari — and Brahmakund, the stretch of water where, it is said, drops of amrit fell. At dusk, priests raise great tiered brass lamps over the current, bells ring, and thousands of small leaf boats with flowers and a flame are set on the water. It is loud, crowded and unmistakably sincere.

Two hilltop goddesses watch over the town: Mansa Devi on Bilwa Parvat and Chandi Devi on Neel Parvat across the river, both reached by ropeway or a steep climb. South in Kankhal is the Daksha Mahadev temple, tied to the story of Sati. Haridwar is vegetarian and alcohol-free within the city, and the food follows: kachori with aloo sabzi in the Moti Bazaar lanes in the morning, jalebi hot from the oil, and lassi in tall steel glasses.

Reach Har Ki Pauri at least forty-five minutes before the evening aarti and sit on the far bank, facing the main ghat — you see the whole thing instead of the backs of heads. Agree nothing with anyone who approaches you on the steps for a donation; if you want to give, use the Ganga Sabha's own counters. Go up to Mansa Devi early before the ropeway queue forms. And avoid the roads in the Kanwar weeks of July and August, when the Delhi highway is given over to pilgrims on foot.

The river is a goddess here and is treated as one. Remove shoes on the ghats, dress modestly, keep soap and shampoo out of the water, and do not photograph people mid-ritual or anyone at the cremation grounds. The chains along the steps exist because the current is genuinely strong — hold on to them when you bathe. And respect the city's rules on meat and alcohol; they are not a suggestion.

The same river, younger and colder, is twenty-five kilometres upstream. Rishikesh is the natural next step — ashrams and yoga where Haridwar has pilgrims and ritual, and the hills beginning in earnest.